


Beautiful Shadow

by FeatherFang



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: After Story, F/M, Romance, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:50:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2956403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherFang/pseuds/FeatherFang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after the fall of the Arch Demon, the Warden Commander disappeared in the middle of the night. Journeying across the sea, Rodwen docks in the land so many of his stories revolved around. Determined to spend the rest of her life with the man she loves, she hunts down Zevran and together they face what their time apart has done to them both as well as the Crows' Guild Master.  </p>
<p>But was is the looming dread on the edge of her mind that she has to tell him, and will she have the strength to do so?</p>
<p>Set two years after Awakening, giving my Warden a proper ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Beautiful Shadows

_I stared down at the tanned elf with annoyance and curiosity, carefully wiping at the blood on my cheek. He was tied, and, for now, was the only one left alive in the party who had ambushed my group. He was smirking at me, having just spilled his guts as if he held no loyalty at all. Though he claimed that he did, but not to the point where it meant his death. I narrowed my eyes at him. One of my long knifes in my hand, I twirled it around aimlessly. If Logan was truly sending people after the remaining Gray Wardens, then we needed to work faster._

" _Why exactly… should I spare you?" I asked after a moment, though, honestly I didn't truly want to kill him. Something in his eyes told me he'd done all of this for the wrong reasons. Zevran peered at me, apparently surprised by my inquiry._

" _Ah, deadly, beautiful **and** fair. That is a dangerous combination." He mused. Behind me Alistair snorted and I could almost see my fellow Gray Warden rolling his eyes. "Here is what I'm thinking; While I'm sure you don't really need any more protection, one can always use an assassin on their side, yes? If you let me live I will pledge my loyalty to you, and unlike The Crows, I shall stay by your side till you either chase me away, or one of us is dead. How does that sound?"_

_Shocked, I stared at him bewildered. This man had just tried to kill me, and now he wished to join my cause? Something was very wrong with him…_

" _No, absolutely not!" Alistair snapped, taking a step forward, almost blocking me from view. Zevran raised an eyebrow._

" _Why not? Afraid of a little competition?"_

_While Alistair scowled, I momentarily felt slightly sick at such a though. Alistair and I? The guy was nice, but honestly he was too timid and whiny for me. He was more of a clansmen to me, someone I could trust to have my back. Nothing more. Furthermore, he had never shown any signs other than that as well._

_I sighed, looking at the others in the group. "What do you guys think?"_

_Sten, ever stone-faced, grunted. "He could be of use, but I would watch him carefully."_

_Schniter, my fateful hound, stood from where he had been sitting at my feet and walked up to the elf in question. He sniffed him, making Zevran grimace at the dog breath, and then circled him once before sneezing. After a moment he came back to my side, sat down, and barked with his stub of a tail wiggling._

_I pressed my lips together and moved out from behind the ex-Templar, before crouching down to eye level in front of Zevran. He blinked, meeting my gaze without trouble, and smiled crookedly. There was that look in his eyes again, something that I couldn't quiet shake off. I wanted to know what that was._

_Quick as a whip, I flicked my dagger forward, my arm reaching out and cutting the elf's bindings. Zevran looked surprised, and stared at me as I stood up. I ignored Alistair's protest. I was leader, even if I didn't want to be, and he had no authority to stop my decisions. I reach out a hand to help Zevran stand up._

" _One wrong move, and no amount of skill will save you," I said evenly. It was the only warning he would get. Zevran looked at my hand, then back up at me, and smirked as he took it. I pulled him up, and, when I moved to let go, he gripped my hand to stop me, if only for a moment._

" _I wouldn't have it any other way." He said evenly, before bowing his head. "On my life, I pledge my loyalty to you, and only you. I am your man." And then he brought his mouth to my gloved hand and kissed it._

_My cheeks flared slightly and I pulled my hand away. Quickly I sheathed the knife in my other hand, and crossed my arms. I glanced around our little group. Sten looked the same as always, and Alistair looked ready to blow his top. I nodded my head, picking up the bag of goodies I had pillaged from the corpuses._

" _Come on. Let's get back to camp."_

The water was clear and crisp as I watched it pass below me in one of the numerous cannels of the city. My memories seemed to shine in them, and it was easy to let them float in and out of my head. I had never seen such clear water before, not even in the mountains my clan had stayed in one summer. Water ruled this city. It cut lines through it in puzzle like pieces creating a delicate maze that one had to navigate with confidents, less you get lost. The building and pathways were rock – cobble and a smoothed white – the hot sun bounced off their surfaces with ease.

All around me people passed me by without a glance on the bridge. I was just another person to them with a leather hood over my head and a mask over my mouth and nose. It didn't even worry them in the slightness that two swords were strapped to my back and a dagger was at the ready on my inner thigh. They must have been use to it, seeing as the city was almost run by assassins – another traveler in such attire was nothing new.

As I took in a deep breath I recalled the words of the man I was looking for. He was right. The scent of leather hung in the air like a noble women's perfume. The City of Antiva was a glory to behold – how many times had I laid in his arms listening to his words and dreaming of what it looked like? I could have stayed for hours.

I shook my head, straightening and picking up my nap sack from the ground and throwing it over a shoulder with little care. There was nothing of value in it. I knew better then to walk into a city of spies and thieves and keep valuables in sight. They would have to get very close to me if they wanted anything, and, the moment they did, cold steel would meet them.

I wasn't there to sightsee though, so I trudged on. My eyes flickering about for the sign a rather frightened Crow had given me, a little over an hour ago, as I held him at blade point. Finding Zevran was proving harder then I had thought, and it was in times like these I truly missed my faithful hound Schniter. He would have sniffed the elf out in no time. However, my long time friend couldn't help me anymore. I was on my own, having to rely on the survival training I had, as well as some very helpful rumors I had acquired.

How long had it been? It seemed like only a short time ago Zev and I had been getting ready to train new gray wardens, and were planning to spend some real, none world saving, time together. Then the letters came, followed by the ambush, and I was injured gravely. I had thought recovering from the Arch Demon had been bad, but Antiven poison was very potent.

Despite all my pleading he had left, returning here to finish off the Game Master of the Crows. I had meant to follow after I had healed, but then the incident at Fort Draco had occurred and before I knew it I had been swept up into another war. This time, I hadn't had my partner with me. I hadn't had someone to dance the art of deathblows with, but I had cooped. If only barely.

Three years.

It had been three years since I had seen the man I loved, and after everything had calmed with the gray wardens I had slipped away. There was only one I had told I was leaving, though I hadn't planned on it. He was a rouge after all, and I should have known he would spot me.

Nathanial and I had a rather rough start – with the whole 'I killed your father, and, no, I'm not sorry' thing. After a while we had settled into an easy friendship. I talked to him about how much I missed my old friends, and how much my soul longed for a certain elf. He had talked to me about his clarity in seeing what his family had been. Neither of us ever said we were sorry – that I killed his father, or that he had hated me for it, planned to kill me for it – it hadn't been something we needed to say.

He let me go without much force. The years had been hard on me, and he could see it. He understood. The rest probably knew I was gone now. Anders was more than likely upset I had left without a good bye. We had been a joking team, laughing and teasing for no real reason. He would understand though, I was sure. My dwarven friend was more than likely laughing the whole thing off. Oghren had asked me quite a few times why I hadn't already left. Justice… Justice would be fine. The spirit had always worried me, he had seemed forever lost in a tide of emotions he couldn't completely grasp, love being the hardest for him. Anders had become his friend, though. I was sure, with his help, the spirit would find peace in this life.

The rest of the people that had helped with the Architect would be fine. None of them had I been very close with, not even the person who was of my people. She had always been so bitter, I couldn't find even ground with her.

It meant little now, though. I was here now, in this city of Crows and leather, feeling much like I was looking for a singular needle in a stack of them.

I spotted the sign a few minutes after leaving the market district. It read 'The Dove's Nest'. It was a rather popular brothel from what the squealer had told me. I grimaced, wondering off hand how loyal that slinky elf had been. If my information had been truthful, the meeting would happen somewhere around here. After a quick thought, I made my way to the roof, easily using a stack of boxes, and then windows and ledges, to work my way up. Once on the flat top of the building, I let my pack slid to the ground and pulled my hood more snuggly over my head.

Now all I could do was wait.

I didn't have to wait long.

I saw the group first – five men, two of which were elves and all dressed in the attire I had first met Zevran garbed in. All leather and metal, filled to the brim with hidden weapons, I was sure. The group stopped in the alley between the brothel and another building. I followed them discreetly from the roof as they relaxed and waited for the other party to arrive.

He showed only minutes later, a cloak around his shoulders, but the hood was down. He wasn't one to hide, he never had been, which was ironic seeing as he could melt into the shadows and steal just about anything from anyone within a moment. I felt my heart speed up as I looked at him, overjoyed to see nothing seemed to have changed. He even still had the same pair of blades I had given him.

The other men all stiffened as he stopped a few feet in front of them, holding out his hands to show he held no surprises. Still, one of them kept a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Here I am." I rolled my eyes at his greeting. "It would seem by the look of you that the Game Master is not coming, yes?"

"Anton sees little reason in seeing you." A man, with a nearly shaved head and tattoos covering it stepped forward and addressed him. "He doesn't see why you continue to cause us trouble. You killed Talisen, and failed in your mission. You are nothing to the Crows now."

"Ah, you see, that is what I had thought." I could hear the malice entering his voice as he spoke. "Then you sent those men, and almost killed Rodwen. I thought the Crows kept their word, but I guess not." I was not surprised by his words, for he had spoken much the same to me before leaving. "For that, you see, you will all die, or surrender to me."

The man scowled at him. "You are naïve Zevran. She was protected while saving the land from the blight, but, with the Arch Demon gone, she is nothing but a thorn that continues to remind us of our failure." A sound caught my attention, the twang of a bowstring being tested. I looked around as he continued to speak. "Now, you have become just as much of one, and for that we will end you as well. Then, finish off the warden."

A few buildings away I saw it. A cloaked figure with a bow pulled back and an arrow ready. They had not seen me thanks to the shadow abilities I had picked up. Also, I knew the arrow was pointed at Zevran. When the string was released, I moved. Swords free in moments I leapt off the edge of the building, using years of training to cut down the arrow before it could make its target. As I landed, I found everyone looking at me, though Zevran's eyes quickly moved from me to the arrow now split in half on the ground, and then back to me.

I was not surprised he didn't realize who I was, for years had changed me, and nothing but my eyes were visible. He looked a bit confused as to why I had saved him, but, being who he was, he quickly turned back around to the other men who all looked a bit annoyed at their failed plan.

"Well then, it would seem you wish to fight now, yes? Very well."

Everyone was a whirlwind of speed after that, and, knowing the sniper up on the building would be a problem, I moved for the man that had a bow of his own. Zevran sliced at the bald man as I sped past him, using my keen sight to find weak points on the victim – something he had taught me himself.

One of the elves moved to stop me. I quickly blocked his attack, and then kicked up with my foot, smashing his kneecap and then driving one of my blades through his neck as he crumpled.

I caught my main target off guard and quickly struck him shoulder to shoulder, sending him to the ground where I drove my other blade into his chest. He made a small sound, before his eyes simply stared up at me and I yanked my blade free again, sheathing both of them. Taking no time, I kicked the body over and recover his bow and an arrow.

It had been such a long time since I had held one, not since my role as a hunter in my clan, but it was like riding a horse; you never forgot. I quickly strung the arrow, and, finding my target, pulled back. Taking careful aim I shot the arrow and was pleased when I saw the figure fall from sight.

A sharp pain bit at me and I jumped back from another swing as another Crow came at me with a sword – the one who had been so antsy before. I felt blood bubble up and trickle down my shoulder and grimaced at him. The man smirked at me, his green eyes cold and hard. We clashed blades and I used my free one to try and lop off his head like I had the other one.

I missed, and was forced backwards as he pushed hard on my injured arm. I had planned to kick him, but was suddenly thrown back; barely keeping my feet under me as I saw a sword suddenly appeared through his chest. The man gurgled, and then fell as the blade was pulled out. Zevran huffed a bit while bending down to clean off his blade on the bodies' clothes. As I looked around, the other two men were dead as well; the bald one lay crumpled with a slashed throat.

I turned my gaze back to Zevran, but I found myself suddenly, roughly, pushed to the wall. I winced as his elbow dug into my wounded shoulder, his knife at my throat. I stared at him wide eyed, his golden ones narrow with suspicion.

"Who are you? Why did you help me?" Perhaps he had changed a bit, I noted. I still remember the first time we had spoken, where he had been so calm and casual. Perhaps, somewhere down the line, in the three years we had been apart something had changed that. I hissed as he pushed on my wound, and then gasped.

"Why wouldn't I when I came all this way to help you? Bloody rash of you to do this, isn't it Zev?"

He paused, the pressure on my wound lessoning, causing more blood to trickle down and drip from my fingers. I could see his mind working backwards, the sound of my voice triggering it.

" _Ah, don't worry, it was just part of my training to become a Crow, nothing like a good rack stretching."_

" _Do you hear yourself? Having to endure something like that, you shouldn't be happy about it."_

" _How would you know?"_

" _Dread Wolf be damned, I know more than you think!"_

Quick as lightening, his other hand shot up and pulled my hood down, shattering my own thoughts about the past. Though my mask still covered my mouth and nose, my white, blond hair spilled out framing my face and the long braid it was in cascaded over my shoulder. On one of my pointed ears he found three earrings, the other holding just one which was on the lobe – a simple silver loop with an emerald in it – the same earring he had given me as a vow of love.

"Rodwen." He breath, startled. Eyes wide, he lower his knife and put it back on his belt. I tilted my head slightly, reaching up and cleaning off a smear of blood from his face.

"Getting into messes again are we? Well, at least I'm here now to clean you up this time."

His hand caught mine before I could lower it, and he held it to his face and laughed slightly.

"You really are here." He muttered looking at me. "How is that?"

"I left." I said simply. "I missed you, I could not be there another day. I am no leader. I never wanted to be. Things will be fine without me. Whatever years I have left, I wanted to be with you."

He let go of my hand, and smiled in his cocky way.

"Ah, yes, I can see that." He avoided the fact that I had stated the number of years I had, but I couldn't blame him. Still, at some point, we would have to talk about it. He looked around, glancing for something that he thought was missing. "Surely, you did not make the journey all alone though. Where is that flea bitten friend of yours?" He must have seen the sadness that entered my eyes for he looked like he regretted his words.

"Schniter is gone Zevran. He died, protecting me a year ago."

"Ah." This time, he touched my face. "I am sorry Rodwen." Something in his words made it feel like he apologized for more than the loss of my dog. I leaned into his touch. How long had it been since I had heard any word for him? Not since the letter he sent to the keep.

"It is alright Zevran." I can feel his index finger tracing the lines of the gray purple swirls on my forehead that looked so much like the Hula, skimming over my temple and cheek till it hit the fabric of my mask. "You had no way of knowing it was me, after all, covered up as I am."

"So I can see. Wanted to go unnoticed. Smart, I suppose." He stares at the cloak and the mask with playful, endless eyes. Their color, so vibrant, I could almost taste honey on my tongue. Slowly, his hand skimmed over my lips, hidden under black fabric and I watched his eyes darken ever so slightly with each word. "I have missed you so…" His words were paired with him leaning forward and quicker then I could respond he ripped my mask down and crushed his mouth to my newly exposed one. I let out a small squeak, like I always did, when he suddenly became affectionate. Still, my hands found his shoulders, then his hair, and I quickly kissed him back as he pushed me against the wall harder.

It was a bit ironic that it happened to be the wall of a brothel.

His other hand caressed my neck, and then stopped near my shoulder at the wetness. When he pulled back I was breathless. He looked at his free hand, at the scarlet liquid on it, and then at my shoulder wear the fabric of my cloak had darkened. The hand that was still on my face drew up to brush hair from my eyes.

"I have dreamed about this day since I left you." He muttered before pulling his hand away. I just stare at him, unable to really reply. He knew I felt the same way because of my lack of words. He stared at me for a few more minutes before his hand simply reached out and took the wrist of my uninjured arm. "But we must make haste my Warden. Being caught in the middle of a group of bodies, even in Antiva, would not vote well, yes?"

Still slightly dazed, I nodded my head and followed him back out of the ally way. After a quick retrieval of my pack from the roof, I pulled my hood back up, more to keep the sun from my eyes then to shadow my face. He led me away from the red-lantern district and towards a busier part of town. People continued to pass us and pay us no heed as we stopped in front of a shop.

The sign read ‘ _Pelle_ _verniciata_ _di Sylvia’_ which meant little to me, as much of the words here did. I supposed I would have to learn at some point. We walked in through the open door without pause, and I wondered what in the world we were doing. That became clear when a women wearing little, and holding an inking tool to another man, nodded to him and he smirked. Zevran took my forearm to get me moving again, and led me behind the counter and through another door. Inside was a room much like a greeting room. As I'm shown through a hallway, he pushes open yet another door and we are finally in what seems to be living area; a bedroom.

"Sit down, _Amore_. I shall fetch some bandages for that wound of yours." I nodded my head as he left the room. I shuffled over to the large bed at the far side of the room, and plopped down after taking off my swords and pack. I had forgotten how much I liked it when he spoke endearments in my ear. Ones I, myself, didn't even understand.

I wondered about where I was, and how he gotten a place like this, seemingly in the middle of everything, yet out of sight. It was perfect, I realized, for no one would look for him in a place they thought for sure he would avoid.

I looked around the room idly as I waited. The room was fashioned in dark wood, and the curtains and bed were draped in plush, green cotton. It was a simple room, but somehow I could see him living here.

"Miss me?" I smiled slightly when Zevran reappeared with bandages and a bottle that I guessed was disinfectant. He sat them down on the side table, and then sat on the bed next to me. "We got lucky that their blades didn't have any poison like last time." He said it carefree, but I pressed my lips together thinking of that night. I couldn't remember much of it. All I knew was that I almost died and it had almost destroyed Zevran to watch me suffer. "Now, then, let's get that wound treated, yes?" He reached for the clasp on my cloak, but I grabbed his hand. I looked at him, unsure about all of this. It had been three years after all; something had changed. Some things he might not like once he saw them. He simply gave me one of his smiles; the one he only seemed to ever give me. One that wasn't cocky, just sweet, and I let his hand go without a word.

I let him undo the tie of my cloak and it fluttered to the bed and pooled around me. I helped with the buttons and hooks of my dragon scale armor, and he comments on it. I told him that our dear black smith followed me to The Keep. He laughed at the merchant's bad luck, but praised the smith's work. He laid that aside more carefully, running a hand over the fine scales as I work on pulling off my tunic, which was hard as the sleeve covered in blood has started to stick to the wound, and I was forced to rip it off.

Zevran grabbed the bandages and cleaner first, and then stood in front of me to get a look at the still weeping wound. What his eyes were drawn to next, though, left my heart constricting slightly as a look of horror marred his face.

My skin, for the most part, was slightly tanned from my years as a Dalish elf in my clan. Though, light scars did mar it every once in a while from the constant battles I had endured. My breast band was still firmly in place, and framed what he stood staring at rather well.

It was black, and looked like a barren bush; the black spindles covered the front of my left shoulder and half of my collarbone. While the middle was a solid black shape, tendrils stretched far alone the paths of my veins. Slowly, carefully he brushed his hand over the dark skin. It did not hurt; in fact I could feel nothing at all.

"What is this?" His voice held the same edge it had with the crows before, and I bit my lip. I hated the look on his face, the anger that was on it that screamed something had clearly done this to me. I pulled in a long breath before I answered him.

"The day Schniter died I was alone with him." I muttered. Zevran looked up at my face as I spoke, though his fingers lingered. "I was just out for a walk with him. I had needed a break from all of the politics. I was careless and got ambushed by a blood mage." He flinched at the word, his eyes tightening in anger. "He summoned a demon of wrath, and it grabbed me here." I raised a hand and touched the darkest part of the scar, looking down at my lap as I spoke. "That kind of pain… I can't describe it. Schniter leapt at the thing to stop it, and forced it to let go of me, but he was flung hard in its reaction. His head hit a sharp rock." I cringed slightly, remembering the yelp, and the crack I had heard. All of the blood that had been on that rock… I shook my head. "Apparently I had been screaming loud enough to alert for help. Nathaniel, a fellow rouge, found me and killed the mage quickly."

"I see." He muttered tightly. His fingers ghosted over the blackened veins. "No one could help you?" I shrugged slightly.

"There was a mage that was more talented with healing then any I have ever met. He closed the wound, stopped the infection from spreading, but not everything can be fixed with magic, Zev." I sighed, looking back up at him. "The nerves there are gone, so it doesn't hurt or anything, it just doesn't look good. The demon scorched my veins so hot that they couldn't heal."

He was quiet for a long time; looking at the wound with a face I didn't quite understand. I watched pain dance across his features, and reached up to touch his face. He moved from my touch and that stung. He looked sorry when I pleaded at him silently, but shook his head.

"I should have been there." He said finally. I had known this was coming, and so I tried to stop him before he continued.

"Zev-"

He cut me off, throwing his hands up in the air, the first aid supplies long forgotten on the floor.

"I left you alone for _three years,_ Rodwen. Who knows how much longer it would have been. You could have been killed, and I would not have known until it had long passed." He was angry with himself and turned away, his shoulders tense. I frowned, feeling guilty for having put this on him. I could see the logic of his guilt, and, in truth, I had wished he had been there for me. Yet, how could I blame him for doing what he thought was right?

Slowly, I got up from the bed and rested my hands on his shoulders from behind, pressing myself against him. I buried my face into the back of his neck and hair, and clung to him like I had the night before the march to Denerim. He stiffened, trying to pull away so he could continue to punish himself. I didn't let him. I tightened my hold and kept him where he was. "Rodwen, please…"

"No." I snapped. "This was not your fault. I did miss you, that is true. I wished you were there with me, by my side." I sighed one of my hand leaving his shoulder to run down his back and over constricted muscles. "But I understood. I never thought badly of you for it." I paused letting that sink in. He needed to know that I wasn't looking for him to beg for forgiveness, for I was as much to blame for our distance as he was. I started counting his intakes of breath, counting six of them before I continued talking. "I love you Zevran, and all that matters now is that we're here together again… I thought that maybe, since we are no longer running around in tents, you could use that inking talent of yours that you spoke of and maybe make this into something more pleasant to look at?"

I counted four more breaths before he turned around and pulled me into a crushing hug, his face in my hair. I let out a little gasp at how tight he was holding me, but didn't do anything except press my nose into his neck.

"You are my everything, _mio Bella Ombra_." He muttered, and I knew those words, that name; the endearment he only spoke to me when we were alone. "No mark on your body will ever change that. I do not deserve you, but I will selfishly keep you here."

I smiled against his skin.

"It is not as if we are that different. You know this. You know I will never leave your side. I am yours." I heard him laugh as I used his all too common statement as my own. He lifted my chin with his hand to stare into my dark, forest eyes.

"My Beautiful Shadow, you have already followed me here. I have no doubt you will continue to do so." He traced his hand over the blank lines again, his mind ticking away. "I will use all of my skill with ink to turn any of your blemishes into art, if that is what you wish."

"It is." I muttered and leaned forward to kiss him lightly. He was not satisfied with that, though, and his arms snake around me and pull me even closer than before. When he was finished, he had covered my neck in kisses and bitten down repeatedly in the spot under my left ear. I was gasping and flushed, unable to really think straight. He chuckled, and pulled back, gently sitting me back down onto the bed again.

"Then I shall see that it is done. I will need to barrow some of Sylvia's ink for this little project." He picked up the bandages and cleaner that he left forgotten on the floor. "But first, we must see to your wound. I will not have you bleeding elsewhere if I am to draw it out." I nodded in understanding, and let him get to work.

He was quick, and, though it was no healing magic, the cream he smeared over the cut was cooling and he was careful not to bandage it too tight.

"Who is Sylvia anyway?" I finally asked, as I rubbed at my shoulder. Zevran was rummaging around in the nearby wardrobe, looking for a shirt I could wear instead of the bloody ones I had worn the entire boat ride here.

"Eh? Is that jealousy I hear, Rodwen?" I scowled slightly, and wondered if I am truly jealous. It had been three years, and it was Zevran, but…

"Is there a reason I should be?" I asked quietly. He paused in his searching to look at me, and frowned slightly at my worried face. After a moment he ducked back in and pulled out a tan, long sleeved tunic and came back over to me. When he stood in front of me, saying nothing, I felt my eyebrows knit together. "Zev?" As quick as a cat, he crouches in front of me, coming to my eye level he moves a hand forward, fingers touching the earring.

"I can understand your worry, my Warden. I do not have a very good track record do I?" I sighed, but waited for him to continue. "You have my word. You have had my heart since I gave this to you, _miobella ombra_." His fingers touched the earring I had worn since he had helped pierce my ear, and put it in. "Even if I tried, they would never satisfy me." I sighed closing my eyes and pressing my face into his hand. He curled his fingers into my hair and hummed. "This has me wondering, though, if I should be thinking the same, no?" I opened an eye, and frowned at him causing him chuckle. "I am merely joking. You are a loyal person by nature. Though, I find it hard to believe an entire fort kept to themselves for three years." I sighed, shrugging slightly.

"There were a few…"

"Oh? Who are they, so I can stare murderously into their eyes?"

"Really Zev…"

"I jest! You know this!"

I sighed again, shaking my head before resting it on his hand once more.

"Nothing happened. There was the mage, the one what helped with the demon's wound. But, Anders tended to flirt with anything female and on two legs." Zevran chuckled and I couldn't help up smile. They probably would have gotten along swimmingly. "And there was Nathanial, the other rouge I told you about." I opened my eyes again, and made a face. "Honestly, why do half the men I become friends with want to kill me the first time I meet them?"

"Eh? Again?"

"Yes, again." I frowned, thinking back. "Though, he was trying to avenge a family member I'd killed. Not just because he was told to kill me, so I suppose it was different. I ended up making him a warden." I laughed, slightly, remembering the dark haired archer's face. "Turned out for the better I think, though. After three years we were rather close, and by then I think he knew I belonged to someone else." I pressed my lips together. "He caught me when I was sneaking off to come here. I think he saw something in my face that made him let me go without much of an explanation."

"A true friend then, no?" I looked at him raising an eyebrow. "Everyone could see you had enough after defeating the Arch Demon, Rodwen. The fact that you stuck around for three more years is something I am sure most of our old friends would have trouble believing." His hand moved to brush over my cheek. "Any true brother in arms would have let you go."

"I suppose you are right." I moved my head and kissed his palm before smiling. "Thank you for understanding my worries and not over reacting." He chuckled.

"Who am I, Alistair? No, I do not fly off the handle because you ask a well justified question." I smiled again, nodding my head. "Now then, I think it is time I told you of my plan." This worried me, for his voice held that ever so seductive edge to it.

"Plan?"

"Hm, yes. I do have plans sometimes." He smiled cockily at me. "In three days the Game Master will be attending a party held by one of the princes here in Antiva. He has quiet a love for masquerades as it were." I raised my brows at him and he smirk grew wider, trailing his fingers over my jaw line as he spoke. "I think we shall get in the proper attire, and attend this party, where I fully intend to relieve the Game Master of his duties. Then we shall rule these Crows as we see fit." I snorted slightly.

"So that is your plan? To rule as king and queen of the group that has tried to kill us both numerous times?"

"There is no safer place my dear. Plus, I think you would be the perfect Queen of Assassins."

I had to admit, that did sound like quiet an adventure. It might be fun to work from the other side for a while.

"That sounds like a great deal of fun." I ran a hand through his wheat gold hair, thinking about time and feeling my chest ache. "I just wish…"

"Shh…" He planted a quick kiss on my forehead, knowing what I was thinking. "Time is but a number Rodwen, and life is fleeting to begin with, no?" I nodded slightly, deciding to let it go for now. He knew my years were limited, but he didn't know everything. That was for a later date. "Good, then we are in agreement." Hands push me backwards, and I let myself fall onto the bed and watched the shirt he had just dug out go flying into a corner with his own. "That is the future though, and as you have said, _mio Bella Ombra,_ it has been three years." He was on the bed next to me, an arm holding his head up as his free hand skimmed my bear arm. "I fully intended on using the now to make up for it."

I smiled, thinking about his words and finding them more right than anything I had heard as of late.

"I think I would like that." I muttered staring into his golden eyes. "At least for awhile." Of course, 'awhile' for Zevran turned into a time neither of us would ever forget.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a warning for Graphic description of Gore.

_It was dark, cold, and smelled like the breath of the Dread Wolf. The small torches outside my cell did nothing to cast more than a dim struggling light, and seemed to hold no heat in them at all._

_I couldn't seem to stop shivering._

_I pulled my knees closer, wrapping my good arm around myself. I needed to stop shaking. Not because I was afraid to show fear, or because my teeth chattered so loud in this hollow place it could wake the dead. It was because every time I shivered, every time it racked my body, my shoulders shook. Blood from the abscessing wound on my left shoulder, near my neck, shot out like a spell from a mage._

_Creator's goddamn shit._

_As if this week hadn't already been bad enough._

_I closed my eyes, blocking out the sounds of the screaming from inside this hellhole that was Fort Draco. The man in the cell next to me muttered something – probably a chain of comforting words to me, but I didn't want to hear it. They wouldn't help._

_I just wished I could escape. If I had my lock picking tools I'd be long gone. If I had a knife I'd have broken the damn lock or tricked a guard into coming to close. I had neither of those though. All I had was my mind and body; barely covered with anything other than things only a lover should see._

_I was helpless – worse than helpless with the wound I had, and the constant, dizzy feeling that came every time I moved my head._

_I needed help._

_Someone would come, I knew they would. I had friends. I had people that cared. Alistair, Wynne, Sten, Morgan, Leliana, Zev-_

_I whined quietly at the thought of his name. I wanted nothing more than for him to be the one to come and save me. I was just not sure if he would. He hadn't even been there when I had handed myself over to the guards to save the others. It had been the first time in months I had gone on a mission without him, but I had been afraid to approach him._

_Me, the so-called brave Gray Warden, afraid of the scorn of the elf she was in love with. An elf that told her he didn't know what love was…_

_We'd never had such a fight before. It had been even more intense then when he'd suddenly told me he was too tired to join me in my tent. I hadn't wanted to even do anything, just be around him. I hadn't thought much of it though. Then his old Crow friend had shown up, and, when he had stayed on my side, I had nearly kissed him right then and there in front of everyone._

_I hadn't though, and that night he had given me his first trophy, an earring, and said it was to **repay** me for what I had done. I'd been so horrified, so devastated, when he'd told me he hadn't known how to love someone – that he couldn't love me – that I had handed the thing back to him._

_I had never seen such an intense glare before._

_That had been two days ago, and I hadn't even been able to talk to him since then. I was too scared, too heartbroken to do so. Yet, I couldn't help but think the reason we'd lost the battle at the Howe Estate was because Zevran hadn't been there. We made such an insane team on the battlefield, no one could touch us._

_Now though, it hardly matters that I had been angry with him. All I wanted was to be back in his arms. Even if he couldn't love me back. I still loved him. Drawing in a deep breath, I let it out, slowly, opening my eyes to the world and feeling lower than I ever had before._

_If Tamlen had been still alive, what would he have said if he had seen me like this? Facing torture and death in this place, and yet all I could think about was the fact that my love life had fallen apart._

_He would have laughed._

_Looking up at the ceiling from where my head rested on the cold stonewall, I watched the lights flicker, and slowly let my eyes become unfocused. I couldn’t sleep here, I wouldn’t, but maybe I could zone out enough to rest. Slowly, but surely, I closed my eyes to stop the world from spinning._

_That's when I heard the hurried steps of feet, growing louder and louder the closer they drew. They stopped suddenly near me – in front of my cell I guessed – and I heard the inmate next to me gasp slightly._

" _By the maker." Slightly panicked, yet calm and soft, I knew that voice. "Hurry with the lock, I need to look her over before we move her."_

_Opening my eyes slightly, the scene in front of me was fuzzy and unfocused. "Wynne…" I mumbled and heard someone curse – in Antivan._

_My heart stuttered, but my mind was unsure if it wanted to believe he was there. I blinked, trying to clear my spinning, fuzzy gaze, but having no luck. After another moment the creaking of the cell door opening made me jump slightly, and hurried footsteps followed. I blinked again, the figures closing in and one kneeling down next to me, the other hesitating._

" _ **Merda**_ _! They took her clothes? Bastards will regret it."_

_After that, I was sure it was Zevran, though, I'm not sure I had ever heard such threats from him in such a tone. A hand touched my arm and I blinked again, finally clearing my vision some. Wynne smiled at me kindly when I look at her, and after a moment, I unwrap my arms from around my knees and let my legs relax._

" _Zevran, calm yourself, you already took out most of the guards. It will be okay Rodwen." She muttered the last part, brushing my long blond hair that had fallen out of my braid out of the way to get a good look at the wound. I shuttered again, and coughed, nearly gagging, and felt more blood run down my shoulder. I almost toppled over, but suddenly there was a sharp movement in front of my eyes and Zevran was there, holding me up._

" _Rodwen? Breath beautiful." He pleaded and I did so, focusing on that for a moment. My two companions switched positions, as Zevran moved to my right, his hands holding me up right and pulling my hair to the side as Wynne checked my wound again._

_The mage pulled in a sharp breath. "Sten was right, Howe got her good, and now its infected." She muttered, her hand hovering over the wound, glowing._

" _Will she be alright?" Zevran muttered and I reflexively move to press my head against his hand as he ran his fingers over my scalp in comfort. I caught his mouth twitching up for a moment, and his honey eyes caught my green ones._

" _I can't mend it here, it needs to be cleaned, and this place is anything but sanitary. I'll stop the bleeding at least." Warmth spread over my shoulder and I sighed, some of the pain lessoning. Next I felt her fingers on my temple, and remembered I must have had blood on my face from the blow of a shield. "Rodwen? Dear, can you see alright?" She asked and I looked to her, the outline of her face fuzzy, and the world still turning._

" _Fuzzy, the world is spinning… dizzy" I crocked, coughing and wincing. Zevran cursed again._

" _I thought as much. She has a concussion at least, with a wound on her scalp. You'll have to carry her. I guess it's a good thing you already knocked so many of the guards out." I watched as the older women stood up, and then I felt arms around me, curling around my shoulders and linking under my frozen legs._

" _What…" I mumbled. Zevran stood, and when the world slowed again I was in the air, warm arms holding me there. Wynne was pressing her hand to my skull, dull warmth spreading through it, and, slowly, the world righted itself and edges sharpened again._

" _There, that should help." She muttered and led the way out of the cell. Zevran nodded his head, following._

" _Wait-t." I muttered, and both stopped once we had left my cell. I looked to my left, where the man stood, watching us. "Help him…"_

_They looked at each other for a moment before Zevran chuckled and walked over. "Always saving everyone you can." He shifted me; one arm linking around my body as his other was freed. I often forgot how strong he was, and how tiny my frame was, even if I was tall. A few clicks later and the cell door squeaked open, his arms returning to their first position._

" _Thank you." The man muttered, and I only nodded slightly, and watched him run off._

_Our little group started off again, and I let my head come to a rest on the elf's shoulder, listening to his steps for a time. I closed my eyes sighing._

" _Don't fall asleep, mio bella ombra."_

" _What..?" I mumbled opening my eyes slightly again. What did that even mean? Zev chuckled again._

" _I will tell you later, for now, keep your eyes open for me." He muttered, tilting his head so he could press his lips to my forehead. I was stunned, shocked into silence, and relived that he seemed to have cooled down from our fight. I curled one of my hands into the fabric of his under shirt around his color bone, and decided I would wait till I felt a bit better to ask him._

_That as it turned out, was once we had gotten back to the Arles' mansion, and after practically everyone had crowed around Zevran to make sure I was all right. Alistair had looked the most worried, guilty for not being there to help me. Between the two of us, I'd always taken the biggest part of the burden of being the last two wardens._

_I'd waved them off, smiling slightly as Zevran pushed through, and started up the stairs with Wynne and Schniter following. Once we were in my quarters my faithful hound had hopped onto the bed and laid down beside where Zev had put me. He whined a bit, and I smiled, reaching over and petting his head._

" _We managed to find your gear, my dear. Though, I believe it might be a very good thing you were waiting for that drake skin upgraded armor. These are pretty shot. " He picked up the leather armor gingerly, making a face at me as it was still covered in blood, guts, and who knows what else. Not to mention all the holes and cuts in it now had, along with the burn hole. I smiled for real this time, and the Antivan looked pleased that he'd distracted me so that Wynne could clean my wound easier while I was diverted from the pain._

" _You're probably right. Though, I'm glad I didn't lose my blades. Those runes weren't cheap…"_

_I winced slightly as the mage finished up, and then her warm touch on the wound soothed the sting as she healed it. "You'll be good as new by tomorrow I think. Just try to rest, and drink some water, alright?" She raised an eyebrow at me as she pulled away, waiting for my answer._

_I nodded slightly. "I'll do that. Thanks Wynne."_

_The older woman just smiled and patted my knee. "Get some clothes on before you catch a cold," she mothered before glancing at Zevran, and then at me, before sighing slightly. I glanced at the elf, biting my lip. "Schniter, come along, I bet no one's thought to feed you yet, have they?"_

_Sparked by his only grater love then me – food – my hound's ears perked and he looked at me waiting. I rolled my eyes before patting his head and telling him to go. He barked once, stood, and hopped off the bed, following the mage out as the door closed behind them._

_That left me alone with Zevran, and suddenly I was worried. Silence was never a good thing with him. The male elf tilted his head at me before he turned and walked over to the wardrobe, looking though my merger amount of options before he pulled out one of my sleeping garments – a short-sleeved nightgown given to me by a grateful mother after saving her son from a demon. I had just been glad Conner was alive, but the noble women had somehow found out I was sleeping in my leathers._

" _We should really get you a bath. You're looking a bit worse for wear. For now, though, this will do."_

_Zevran walked over, and sat on the edge of the bed where I had pulled myself into a leaning position on the headboard. He smirked at me, touching my hand as I reached out to take it. I blinked, confused before suddenly the cloth was over my face and my head popped from the main hole quick as a whip. I blinked again, slightly dazed before eyeing him bewildered. He chuckled at my face as I pulled my arms through the sleeves and settled the gown around me._

" _I know. It's weird for me to be dressing someone instead of undressing them, no?"_

_I rolled my eyes before looking down at my lap, staring at my hands that were bruised and chapped. Wynne could have fixed them I'm sure, but I had waved her off. She was tired as it was._

_All jokes aside, I wasn't sure where to even start with Zev at the moment. He had come to rescue me, and his reactions to the things he had seen gave me a different impression then what he had said before. Still, neither of us said anything for a few minutes, and after a while, I figured I should say something, so said the first thing I could think of._

" _You know… in the beginning, the reason I spared you wasn't because I thought you'd be useful." I muttered quietly, thinking back to that time, months and months ago, almost a year now. "I wasn't really short on helpers, but… I had hoped I could befriend you, because as much as I care of the others, I was still the only elf in the group and that put up certain walls. I wanted companionship with my own kind, because I was home sick in a way, I guess, I missed my clan." I wasn't ashamed to admit it, but it was a little embarrassing. I was supposed to be this unbending pillar of strength, yet I had looked to a stranger – someone who had tried to kill me – for support."_

" _Ah, I had wondered." Zev replied after a moment, and I felt him shift on the bed as his hand slipped under my chin, lifting it. I met his eyes and he sighed, his hand leaving my chin to brush against the left side of my face. "You were always shadowing me, if not with yourself, then with just your eyes, or even your ears. You have always been very good at tracking, and I thought it was because you did not trust me. That of course changed when I had been around a while, and you seemed to trust me as much as the others. Even spent more time with me then the others, sometimes."_

_I smiled slightly, blushing under his gaze. "I liked hearing your tales." I explained and he chuckled again._

" _Ah, Rodwen, what you must be thinking right now." His hand cupped the side of my face and I leaned into it slightly, though the feeling of hesitation lingered in my mind. "We did not leave off on the best foot, last we spoke." He explained sighing. "With every passing moment since you walked away with your shoulders hunched that night, I have been hating myself for my words a little more. I was just too blinded to see it, till this morning."_

_The morning when I had left to save the queen._

" _Zev…"_

" _Shhh, amora, let me speak." He waited and I nodded slightly, refusing to move my head from his hand, my eyes idly tracing the tattoo on his face that I must have memorized dozens of times by now. "I was confused, to say the least, when I woke and found you had left with some of our companions and left not only myself, but Wynne behind."_

_That was true. The mission had been stealth in the beginning, I had almost simply gone alone. I hadn't wanted to bring Wynne, because I felt like I depended on her too much; she had always been there, for every battle, never getting any rest. Things had just gone so wrong…_

" _I was a bit worried, and confused, but then I heard the group come back a few hours later I was relieved. I had wanted to talk to you. Of course, then I had seen their faces, and everything had fallen apart in moments. Leliana had practically been in tears, and Sten was keeping a bear hugging hold on Schniter to keep him from going back out after you." His hand moved again, combing through the bangs of my hair, pushing it to the side, to expose my Dalish tattoo. "When they had told everyone what had happened, Rodwen… it was like Rena all over again. Only this time I wasn't even there, and I had left you with cruel words. I needed to get you back, because, suddenly, nothing else mattered." He whispered. "I've never felt so panicked in my life then I did in those moments. The thought of never seeing you again… seeing you smile, laugh, sing… I needed it back."_

_I smiled, reaching up and taking his hand from my face. "I'm not that easy to get rid of Zevran. I promise." I kissed the back of his hand, resting my forehead against in for a moment. "All I could think about the entire time I was there was you, and how stupid that fight had been." I laughed slightly. "In reality, I guess it doesn't matter to me now, because I really do care for you Zev, and I'll stay by your side, even if you can't tell me the same thing. I am yours." I used his catch phrase and he looked a bit startled for a moment, before smiling and shaking his head slightly._

" _I told you, I knew nothing of love Rodwen, and that is true." His words stung, even when they were soft and I winced slightly looking down at our hands as he spoke. "But, who really does? I hadn't really thought about it, most people never even understand such a word, so how can I say I can't have it?"_

" _Zevran…" I wanted to tell him it was okay; after all, I knew so little about it as well. I just knew that I needed him in my life._

" _No, Rodwen." He moved forward, closing the small distance between our legs till they were touching, my knee to his shin. "You give me too much 'benefit of the doubt' my dear warden." With his free hand, he brushed the hair from my face again, running it through the long tangled mess my braid had been. "I may not know what love is, but I do know how I feel, and it is so much more consuming then that of what had been there for Rena. When I'm with you, I feel like I'm worth something, and the shame and guilt of my life doesn't matter, because I have you there with me. I don't feel like I have to hide behind my jokes and tales with you Rodwen. I think, maybe, you always saw through them any way."_

_I smile, looking at him. In a way I always had. I could see the wall he tried to put up a front that most believed. It was part of the reason I had been drawn to him, because I wanted to see beyond that. Now I saw him as he was, nothing more, and the look in his golden eyes sent unspoken words tumbling out like dice onto a table._

" _I love you."_

_Whether or not he might have had a reply in those moments, I didn't give him the chance, because it was my turn to be impulsive for once in our relationship. I pushed forward, closing the space between us, and kissed him with every bit of emotion I had left._

_His response was amazing, as he always was, and by the end of it, we were panting, and I was straddling him on the bed, his hand still clutching into my hair as he pulled back to look at me._

" _Miobella ombra." He whispered his thumb smoothing one of my eyebrows before it dropped to his side. His other hand was firmly glued to my hip. I frowned, finding the words pretty, but frustrating._

" _What are you saying?" I grumbled half-heartedly. He smirked._

" _I shall tell you, but first." He fished something from a pouch at his side, and soon he held the same earring as before out to me. A simple lope of silver with a green gem on it. "This time, I offer it to you as much more than any thank you. It is a promise, to stay together forever." He muttered, "Will you stay by my side, Rodwen?"_

_I blink, my face heating up at his words. They are so different from what I am used to. His playboy style of flirting had always been a bit silly. Charming, but silly. Now, though, he spoke of a future that might not even be possible. The war frightened me, and I knew there had to be a reason why Gray Wardens were the only ones that could stop a Blight. More than just the ability to see their movements. His words gave me hope though; hope I hadn't felt in a very long time._

_Smiling, I untangled my fingers from behind his head and slowly lifted them to my left ear. It was pierced in several places, a Dalish act I had done in my youth. There was the studded piece near the tip that had been my mothers and a small cuff near the half waypoint on the edge that I had found in a small box that had belonged to my father. Lastly, there was a small ring of gold, a present I had gotten from Talmen years ago, on the lobe itself. After a moment I pulled the ring out, and set it down on the table near us, making a note that I would have to pieces the other ear at some point._

_When I looked back to Zevran, he was staring at me wide eyed, for he knew what the ring meant to me, what every piece meant to me; they were pieces of my life before the blight. I just smiled at him leaning forward to press my lips to his for a moment, and then gently taking his offer from him._

" _Are you asking me to marry you?" I ask off hand as I opened the pronged ends of the earpiece, never taking my eyes off of him._

" _I… yes. Perhaps after this is all over, we can find your clan again, and see too the Binding you spoke of."_

_I was surprised he had remembered my brief explanation of paring couples together for the Dalish. Still, I was overjoyed he would do such a thing. I didn't tell him though, just grinned like a fool, and let my actions speak for myself as I clasped the earring into place on the lob of my ear._

_The burning pride and adoration in his eyes that I found that night, made everything disappear. That night he praised me, worshiped me like never before, in mind, body and soul, and it was all his to do as he saw fit._

I woke slowly from my dreams. No, not dreams, but memories, I knew. Memories of the war I had fought three years ago; the memories and images still burned into my eyelids like they had been burned there by a cattle prod. Slowly, I opened my eyes to the low murmur of voices and people milling about outside of the building. I suppose the noise was something you got use to when you lived in the middle of the city. Growing up in the woods, towns and cities were a bit too close quarters for me, but I would have to get use to it.

Eyes open to the world, I found myself laying on my side. My eyes saw nothing but tanned skin and darker lines of a swirling tattoo. I watched, silently, for a few minutes as his back expanded slightly with each breathe, before returning to normal. I knew this position well, and I couldn't help but smile at it.

It wasn't that I didn't like to cuddle. No, normally I spent hours awake with Zevran after such a session, but I had never been able to sleep comfortable with arms around me. I wasn't sure why, for I loved his touch, but the feeling gave me a distant feeling of being caged, and, thus, I had never been able to sleep in such a spot. Instead, I preferred to sleep behind him, my forehead on his shoulder blades where I would close my eyes and simply listen to the beating of his heart till I feel asleep.

Zevran had never seemed to mind my preference; he once commented it made me more attractive as I didn't feel the need to be coddled. I knew he most likely said it to make me feel better.

Slowly, I lifted my head and sat up, being careful not to move the bed much and wake my life partner up. The light from the single window told me it was still early, and seeing as we hadn't gotten to sleep till… rather late…erm early, it was safe to say Zev was more than likely still out like a light.

I, on the other hand, knew I wouldn't be able to sleep any longer. The taint in my blood made sleeping a problem to beginning with, so I had learned to manage with little and had adjusted to such.

Leaning over Zevran for a moment, I smiled at his sleeping face and carefully kissed his shoulder, before slipping from the bed, easily making it off with little movement or noise. The elf simple mumbled in his sleep at my gesture, but didn't wake, his left hand hardly twitching. Retrieving my small clothes, I opened the wardrobe and found a cotton dress – most likely the one Zev had meant for me to wear yesterday – and pulled it on. The color was pale green and I tied the dark sash at my waist, and then pulled back on my leather boots. As a precaution, I slipped my hunting knife into the left one, just in case, and then left the room, shutting the door behind me.

As I left the room I briefly wondered why Zevran had female clothing in his room, but after a moment of thought I realized it was probably best left unknown.

My ears twitched at the sound of a lute, and I am reminded of my bard friend. There must have been a minstrel nearby. Later, I would have to go looking for them. I missed my dear friend, and her music.

"Ah, so you're are up first then?"

Tensing, my hand flexed for my knife before I recognized the woman from yesterday; the owner of the shop. I relaxed slightly. If Zev trusted her, then I had no reason not to. Her features were dark, and the red tattoo on her neck was almost elegant. She sat with her legs crossed on the couch in the room I had entered – the main room I guessed – with a cup of tea in her hands. She smiled at my look and gestured for me to sit down.

After a moment, and a glance at the door behind me, I did so, sitting on the couch across from her, a small glass table dividing us. She eyed me for a moment with her brown eyes before nodding her head.

"You are just as he described you." She said evenly, nodding to the door where Zevran laid sleeping. I flushed slightly, fidgeting, and she laughed, setting down her cup. "When he first came back, he wouldn't really say where he had been other than that he planned to take the Crows down. I thought he was crazy, but I let him stay anyway. Over time, though, I would hear him muttered someone's name in his sleep, and he would suddenly jolt up in bed, when I tried to wake him from his dreams." She saw my face crumple. "Oh! No, no. I assure you, it is not what you think, I simply do not allow people to sleep the day away, so I would often have to go and wake him up."

"…Oh" I was ashamed, to even let the thought pass through my mind. Hadn't Zevran already said there had been no one? I trusted him after all, so why did I jump so fast…? Oh, right. Because he was Zevran.

"One day, about six months in," She continued, "we were drinking, and he suddenly told me about you. Not really who you were, but just about you. Your name, both the one he gave you and the one that is yours. He spoke of your resolve the most, your unbending will. That, and your hair." She giggled when I touched a strand, brushing it behind my pointed ear. I would need to put it back in the braid that Zev had rather quickly taken apart.

"Who are you?" I asked finally, frowning at her. I don't like mysteries. Never had. The woman sighed, leaning back in her seat and reaching for her drink again.

"A friend from the past." She muttered. "My name is Sylvia. Zevran and I, we have known each other for a very long time. I had grown up in the same brothel, you see. Though, my mother was the owner, not one of its workers. Zev and I were close in our young years, and even after he was sold off to the Crows, he stayed in contact when he could. "

I nodded my head slight, my frown lessoning. "…Why are you helping him?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She mused, brushing her long black hair back. Her curly strands coiled around her like a fluffy black cloud. "I have no loyalty to the Crows. Just to my friends. I told him he should try to get out of the job for years, but he never listened. Then he up and vanishes for over a year, and when he returns he has changed. For the better I would say. To find out later that it's all thanks to a girl, a Dalish one at that." She sighed wistfully. "I wish I had been here to see it."

"No, you don't." I muttered quietly. "While seeing Zevran change his outlook on life might have been interesting, our bonds were forged through pain and trails. Many of my memories from those days are not ones I would share with any."

"And, yet, you are here. Ready to fight another war again with him?"

I smiled slightly, nodding my head as I thought about the memory that had visited my dreams the night before. "Yes, because, no matter how it came about, I love him, and I will always stand by his side. "

Sylvia hummed standing up. "That is why, above all else, I know I already like you. Now then, would you like something to eat Rodwen? Zevran took you away so fast yesterday, I doubt you have eaten in a while. From what I hear of Gray Wardens, their appetite is quiet something to see."

I laughed slightly, blushing as I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt. Alistair had been so silly when he had explained that to me. "That would be lovely. Some of the tea you are drinking as well, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." The artist walked over to the other side of the room where the small kitchen stood and opened a shelf, pulling down a few canisters. "Is eggs and ham alright? I need to go shopping, meant to yesterday, but we're a little low on food."

"That's fine." I nodded. I had never been a picky eater, and the Dalish had never had the life style of such a thing. "So tell me." I asked after a moment, combing my hair with my fingers at I spoke. "Did Zev learn how to do tattoos from you?"

Sylvia paused for a moment at my question, then nodded her head, taking a moment to put a tea pot back over the fire once she had filled it with water. "Yes. I taught him the basics when he asked. Though, I did a great deal of what's on him, the one on his face was something he did himself. He's quiet good at it, though I'm sure you know how fast his hands are."

I blushed, caught off guard at her rather plain remark and shifted a bit. Behind me, a heard a small, cocky chuckle and twitched as hands suddenly touched my shoulders. "Ah, there is little more that can bring such joy to a man then to hear two beautiful women talking about him." Zevran mused and I snorted, looking up to his face.

The assassin grinned at me, placing a quick kiss on my nose before he vaulted over the couch to sit next to me. I squeaked slightly and Sylvia laughed, turning back to the stove to fix our meal. I narrowed my eyes at Zevran for a moment before sighing and shaking my head. He brushed his fingers over my cheek and I smiled slightly before he gestured for me to turn around.

"Here, let me help you with that hair of yours."

As if it was for my benefit.

I rolled my eyes and did as he said, turning so my back was to him. I watched as Sylvia cooked. His hands gathered of my hair, and pulled in behind me, his fingers running through it much like mine had been. He'd always loved my hair. I wasn't sure why, but he'd grown to love grooming it for me. He said it was soft, and the smell of heather that lingered in it was soothing.

After a moment I felt the light tugs of him weaving it together in the braid I kept the long locks in. "We will be getting you a proper dress for the party today, my dear. Though, I believe Sylvia might be a bit better at helping you with that." I felt his breath on my neck at he spoke. "We both know it will take forever if I help you find something."

I turned scarlet, and elbowed him, to which he grunted and then chuckled before going back to working on my hair. Sylvia had glanced at us, and I caught her gentle smile and nod before she turned her gaze back around.

"I do not mind. Though I think you should still come with us Zev. I will have to leave you at some point to go to the market for food. We should probably get her some more suitable cloths for here as well. Ferelden, as you told me, is so much colder then here. She will likely die of heat."

"Ah, but I was hoping she would simply strip- ouch!"

I scowled at him playfully, and he smiled innocently at me. I knew better then to believe that for even a moment.

…

The following hours were a whirlwind of people taking my measurements and then being stuffed into all types of clothing. After the first few minutes Sylvia had forced Zevran to go do something else as he kept distracting me, and everyone else, with his rather interesting comments…

The dress had come first, and after over a dozen styles the artist twisted my arm into getting one that I thought was pretty. It also left me with the feeling that we would more than likely never make it to the party once I put it on. Backless, an entire shoulder missing, with a flowing skirt that reminded me of a blooming flower – hugging my hips and flaring out with more than my hands could hold onto when running. Plus, it was blood red.

The dress was put on order with my sizes, and then the normal clothes had come. While I loved my dragon scale armor, I had been sweating buckets the day before. Sadly, Sylvia wasn't a person who had ever seen battle, so I would have to go with Zev to an armory later. Instead, she set me up with several tops, paints, skirts and dresses in a verity of colors and styles. All in a lightweight fabric.

I wasn't much for shopping, but it reminded me of the few talks I had with the girls during the Blight. Leliana had always spoken of the fashion in Orlais, of shoes and hair. Morgan, though she tried not show it, loved to speak about jewelry, and she found the ones in my ear interesting.

By the time we were done I had many orders paid for, and a bag of clothes that had been already made and had fitted. I thanked the owners; glad they spoke common and had told them to keep the change from the gold coins I had given them. Being a thief as I am, I have enough money to go around.

Upon leaving the shop, I glanced around and found Zevran leaning on a railing that over looked one of the waterways. He was facing towards us, though, rather than the water itself.

"Well, I best get to the market. Do you have any request Rodwen?" Sylvia asked, and I was suddenly very lost on such a question. It was frustrating.

"I um…I'm not sure what there is here." I admitted, trying to come up with something I enjoyed eating. On any other day, I would have asked to go with her, because I liked looking around market places, but I still needed to get settled first. "I like… fruit?" I mumbled, bewildered at how caught off guard I was.

Dred Wolf take me…

The women laughed, her face lighting up at she waved a hand. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. I promises I won't give you something too weird since you're new here." She teased, and, for a moment, she reminded me of the pirate Isabella from _The Pearl._

"Alright." I raised my hand as she turned to leave, waving.

"You two have fun now!" She called over her shoulder, and soon disappeared into the crowd of people. I smiled to myself; a bit surprised I had bonded with her so quickly, before shifting my small bag to one hand and walking over to where Zevran was. He smiled at me as I came to his side. I leaned over and looked into the water, much like I had the day before.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" He asked, lifting a hand to brush at the bangs that framed my face. I nodded my head smiling. I was distracted, watching the water as it rushed by, seeing a couple on a boat further down the way, the man using a long pole to push them forward.

"This place is beautiful." I said finally. "I can see why you missed it. "

"Ah, but your home had its perk to, yes? I had never seen snow before then, and, while I'm no fan of the cold, it was quiet pleasant to pelt Alistair with snowballs."

I snorted, giggling slightly as I recalled the memory. The two had gone at it because of the elf's knack for embarrassing the former Templar. A few stray snowballs had ended up hitting Sten and Shale, though, neither of them had cared, or moved an inch. Wynne had shaken her head at them, and then at Leliana and myself as we had joined in. The pair of us winning in the long run.

"Can we do that some time?" I asked suddenly, pointing towards the people in the boat. I wasn't sure why I found it interesting; boats normally were hardly my thing. Something about it though… looked relaxing.

Zevran hummed, and I felt an arm wrap around my shoulders. "If you want, once I can make sure we can enjoy ourselves freely, we will. I do not wish for us to be put in a dire position ever again."

I looked down at the water, frowning as I remember the night the group of Crows had attacked. We had been staying with my clan for a little over a month when they swooped in, using one of the children to bait us away. Zevran had gotten out numbered and hurt, and that had distracted me enough to miss the poison dart hitting me. We had dispatched them soon enough, two veteran rouges from the war of the Blight easily winning over a few assassins. I'd hardly gotten half way to camp before the poison had taken effect, and had ruined everything.

At least now, though, that was in the past.

I reached up and touched his hand. "I'm not going anywhere." I reminded him, and then silently add, at least, not for a while.

A sound perked my ears, and I turned from the water, finding a pair of bards out on the street camped near a corner shop. One was playing a flute, while the other played a lute and sang a song in the words of Antiva. I tilted my head, watching, remembering the long night at camp when Leliana would play and sing, and sometimes, I would teach her the songs of my clan and we would sing together.

Zevran's hands left my shoulders as one grabbed my wrist, tugging me forward. "Come." He smirked and led me closer to the music where a small trickle of people had stopped. We stopped beside them, and suddenly the ex-Crow was pulling me into a dance, his hand on my hip as he placed one of mine on his upper arm.

"What are you doing?" I asked, even as we started moving, my feet struggling to understand the directions he was leading me in. He laughed slightly.

"You must learn a few of our dances, Rodwen, if we hope to pass unseen at the party," he pointed out; quickly spinning me out and then pulling me back in. My only response was to laugh, for I knew he was a good teacher… in many subjects. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always Hated that your Romance has no reaction to your Warden getting captured and sent to Fort Draco, So went ahead and fixed that.


	3. Part Three

 

Just like that, days flew by and I went from dancing on the street to the floor of a huge ballroom. My feet were steadier now, though the shoes I wore were hard on them. People surrounded us, but the room wasn't packed, leaving enough space to move with ease. The live band on the balcony above played a mild, quick passed beat that kept one moving. Following the rhythm, Zevran led me around as if the others were still figures.

He wore a white, long sleeved shirt with an amazingly crafted black vest that was adorned with gold thread. His pants were black, and around his waist was a long, red fabric belt that was left to droop open on one hip before coming together on the other hip in a knot. Upon his face was a simple, black mask – that covered only the area around his eyes and nose – with red markings on it that matched mine except mine was white, not black.

The party had been going for over an hour now. We had spotted our target a few minutes in. Anton was a sharp-featured man, and, even with his half faced mask hiding the scar Zevran told me he bore, he was hard to miss. His hair was short, slicked back, and a sandy brown. He wore something close to what Zevran did, as did all of the men here, but his was in Crow coloring – brown, black, and red.

Zev twirled me, and I lifted one foot, swinging it up to be next on my other leg, just like he had taught me, my hand on my skirt, making the large, vast material fan out like a cape. He had told me that in his dance that was my role; I was his cape, and he was the beast wrangler. Once that was done, he pulled me close again, his mouth near my ear.

"It is almost time." He muttered, and I glanced to where Anton was located. l found him gathering with a few others, one of which was the host. "They will leave for a room away from here to speak business. We will follow. We should be fine, till everyone starts taking off their masks, they will simply think we belong there."

I nodded, swallowing my nerves. I had never done anything like this before. The only thing I had to compare to it was when I had rescued the Queen, and that hadn't gone well. It was odd, that a similar event was happening now, when I had dreamt of that event the first night in Antiva.

"Just act the part, Rodwen." Zevran reminded me, and swung us around, dancing us off the main part of the dance floor. Towards the end he surprised me, his foot suddenly hooking one of mine, jerking it forward, and his arms cradling my back. I let out a startled sound, finding myself draped towards the ground in an exaggerated tilt. It lasted only moment, but it was what I needed. The shock of the movement shook me from my worry, and I reached up to touch his face for a moment, silently thanking him.

He set me back on my feet, and grabbed my raised hand, placing it on his arm and leading me towards the trail of exiting crows. We fell in between a single man and another couple. Zevran began to speak to me in Antivan. I smiled, nodding my head when he paused, pretending to know what he was saying, and wishing I did.

We came to another room, one that might have been a bedroom at one point, but had been repurposed. There was a long table towards one end, and pictures, long swatches of currents and banners hung about.

I couldn't really concentrate on that though. Instead my eyes were flickering around the room, counting. Five, ten, twelve. There were twelve people in the room besides us. One of them was the Game Master, Anton, another was the prince hosting the part. I was sure Zevran had said his name, but I couldn't recall it now.

We weren't support to go after the prince, as Zevran was sure he would cower in the corner or flee when things started. After all, he might have had ties with the Crows and Anton, but Zevran had said the ties were more of a 'I'll let you live if you help me with the thrown' type of ties. The royal man wouldn't help in the fight. If he even could fight.

That left eleven people in the room. From what I could tell, they were all Crows, or in the company of one. Guessing that the two other couples would be simple dates, I could hope for only nine against the two of us.

I blew out a breath. Well, we had certainly faced worse odds.

The door clicked shut behind us, and a few, including the prince, seated themes selves. All around us, masks were being pulled away. I glanced to Anton, his face clear now, and eyed the scar that went from temple to jaw line down the left side of his face. It didn't look like he had lost the use of his eye, but it certainly looked like it hurt.

As masks came off, I tensed slightly, letting go of Zevran's arm and mentally readying myself. When we were all that was left of the unidentified followers, the Princes glanced at us, and then to Anton who had narrowed his eyes. However, he smiled, gesturing around them.

"Come my friends, don't be shy. The time for secrets is over. "

Zevran chuckled, waving a hand. "Ah, sorry, my company is a bit shy. She is not use to this kind of crowd." As he spoke, something flickered across the Game Masters face, and his hand slowly moved to his belted waist. "I shall start and encourage her, no?" He was smiling, and I knew he was having fun as he pulled away the mask and tossed it onto a nearby couch. Golden eyes and dark tattoo shown, the deserter stared his former leader in the eyes. "Miss me, Anton?"

Anton's face turned into a sneer and, quick as any assassin, he pulled a hidden sword from his belt. "Zevran! Men, kill them, now!"

I moved, my hand ripping open the snaps that held the skirt of my dress to the upper portion. The dark red fabric twisted apart, morphing into a single curtain of cloth and was thrown at the nearest, startled Crows. This left me with my top corset, one shoulder sleeve and some rather odd black, fancy small clothes. Sylvia had said that they were popular in Antiva. That the men liked to undress a 'pretty package'. I thought the whole thing was completely ridiculous, but that's how I felt about most human costumes.

My cloths weren't important now though. The twin, long bladed dangers, strapped to the outsides of my thighs were. In a flash of movement I pulled them from their sheaths and brought them up in time to parry away the axe of a nicely dressed woman. I was wrong, it seemed one of the couples was completely Crow.

I kicked the blade away, and smashed an elbow forward into her wrist, hearing it crack and causing the women to drop her weapon. Her body hit the floor with when I used my other blade, and swiped cleanly over her neck. As I moved to the next person, my eyes caught several things. The prince was cowering under the table like Zev had though, and my life partner was dealing with three opponents for the moment. Anton stood near the back of the assault, his hand on his sword, as he watched. What was he planning?

This wasn't a time to think though, and a sudden fresh wound to my arm – a passing blade I hadn't dogged fast enough – reminded me of that. In wasn't life threatening though. As I move to deal with the man who had injured me, I saw a throwing knife impale him in the temple. Zevran laughed from his spot, and I rolled my eyes, never quiet understanding why he found killing so joyful. Though, I have to admit, killing those who want me dead has never bothered me in the slightest.

I pivoted, jumping back from a swipe to my stomach as the two that had been caught in my skirt came at me. They were two large men – one elven, one human – both wheedling deadly blades. It was a bit humorous, that every one of us had a blade on them, even though no one would have known the wiser by looking at us.

I crossed my blade, catching one of my opponent's blades in between them, before forcing it to one side and shoving it off. I dodged the next one, raising a foot – bare now as I had kicked off the shoes seconds into the fight – and smashed it into the solar plexus of the elf. He wheezed, crumpling where I quickly plunged one of my daggers into his back. Seeing a blade in my vision I let go of my buried weapon – knowing I had no time to retrieve it – and ducked as the first man tried to lop off my head. I crouched, throwing out a leg and kicking out his own. The man stumbled and I lunged at him, tackling him to the ground, my free hand pinning the one he used to hold his weapon. His eyes went wide with surprise as he hit the ground, hard. I looked upon him for only a moment, seeing my reflection in his green eyes, before my dagger was in his chest.

Yanking the blade free from the corps I leapt up to my feet, turning, ready for more, only to find the others were dead. One women coward in a corner, crying and covering her head. Zevran was picking up his blade from one of the four around him. Anton had not moved, though his expression had lost its smile. I moved, gripping my other blade and pulling it free of the body it was buried in, causing the corpse to jerk and then slump to the ground once more. Zevran glanced at me, smirking, his approval glinting in his honey colored eyes. We had both killed eight…. Wait, only eight? In a split second those eyes I loved widened.

"Rodwen!"

My elven hearing picked it up moments later, hurried feet and only because one splashed into a forming pool of blood. I moved, reflex taking over, and with blinding speed I had acquired from shadow training, I whipped around, my braid dancing with me as I plunged both my weapons into the torso of the women standing over me. She gasped, her danger – inches from my face – clattering to the ground. Blood dripped from her mouth and I grimaced, pulling my blades out and watching her crumple to the ground.

Sighing, I turned once more, the nine Crows all accounted for, only leaving their leader left. I walked up to Zevran's side, stopping next to him, and eyeing Anton. The Game Master scowled for only a moment more before an all too common smirk – it seemed to be a trademark for the Crows – slid into place.

"Rodwen. That sounds like a name I should know." He spoke in common his accent thicker than Zevran's. Narrowing my eyes I reached up, freeing two of my fingers from their grip on my sword and pulled off my mask. Having no free hands to hold it, I let it clatter to the ground where it wobbled for a short time on the flat surface. Free of it, my Dalish tattoo showed clearly on my forehead.

"You should. Though I suppose breaking your word to people who just saved the world is normal for the Crows, isn't it?"

Zevran chuckled next to me, amused by my sarcastic remark – a trait I had picked up some time during The Blight. Anton raised an eyebrow, a flame flicking to life somewhere in his brain. "Ah, the famed Hero of Ferelden is it? Warden Commander, killer of The Arch Demon.” As he spoke, his question turned to a decoration and his words became more venoms turning into a hiss towards the end. "A stain upon the Crow's spotless record."

Beside me, Zevran stiffen, taking a small step forward before I touched his arm with mine to stop him. I was too thick skinned for such remarks to bother me anymore. One didn't become the first female _Dalish_ Warden Commander without acquiring it. Not that I had any intention of stepping into that role again.

"If you're hoping to anger me, you will be trying all day, Game Master." I pointed out. "You won't get the drop on us."

He laughed, but his grin didn't reflect in his eyes. "You are quiet the steel rod. I'm surprised Zevran made any head way with you at all. Tell me Zev, how rewarding was it, when you finally slept with her? How young was she?"

Beside me I felt Zevran tense ever so slightly again, but it didn't show on his face or in his stand. I, for one, fought against the heat in my face.

That night had always been quite a memory. It had happened after Talisen had appeared in our camp. After we had moved again and felt safe. Something about his appearance had finally made it possible for me to truly move on, even though I thought I already had after the trial at the Ashes.

My age often went unseen by most, as the war and the stress had changed my features, aging them slightly. It was hard to believe I had only been seventeen when I had become a Warden, and I had turned eighteen only a month before I had slain the Arch Demon. Thinking about it, I was barely twenty-four now, hardly the age you would expect.

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady their age Anton?" Zevran taunted after a moment, breaking me from my thoughts. When the game master narrowed his eyes, the elf chuckled. "Ah, but if you must know, I was hardly the victor. Rodwen is not easily fooled. Though I will admit, it was some of the best I have ever had, and she only got better at it."

Shocked and embarrassed I easily lifted a foot and stomped on one of his, the closest to me. He flinched, grimacing and then chuckled again. I wasn't willing to get too distracted, but I would make sure to have him regret that slip later on.

After all, as he had said, I wasn't easily seduced, I could ignore him, if I saw it fit.

"What are you hoping to get from this?" Anton snapped, the hand on his sword hilt twitching to move, to pull forward and release the blade. "You can't just simply wipe the Crows off from the world Zevran, we are every where."

"Oh, I know this." Zevran agreed, nodding his head slightly. After a moment, I felt a hand, then an arm, hook my waist and I let him pull me closer, his hot skin against my bare flesh comforting. "That is simply why we plan to just kill you… and anyone else who chooses to be stubborn. Killing off an entire guild is no fun Anton, but taking it over? If there is anything this city has taught me it is it adjust to power changes easily. Trust me, your mark in history will fall into shadow once we are done."

I shifted, keeping my blades loose in my hands as I watched Anton turn an angry red under his tanned skin. No one likes being mocked, and it seemed that the Game Master was no different.

"You really think they'll just fall into line behind you?"

"I can't see why not, if I offer a better life then you have. The torture and brutal punishments are fun and all, but they more often than not create grudges rather than ties. " For a moment I saw Zev's honey eyes darken, a seething range boiling there, if only for a moment. I remembered our time in the Fade, thanks to the sloth demon. I remember what I had seen in Zevran's dreams. He hadn't been with us long, but after that I really felt I could trust him. "You lost my loyalty the moment you mocked Rena's death."

It shocked me that he would openly speak of the first girl he had ever truly cared about. I could remember the night he told me about Rena perfectly. It was the night after the trip (might change trip to quest) to get the Ashes had been completed. We'd all been pretty banged up from the High Dragon we'd taken down. In fact, I had ended up throwing myself in front of the Antivan, taking the blunt of a fire breath, and burning both of my forearms. The elf had insisted on looking after me once Wynne had done all she could, and I guess, in some way, he realized he couldn't lose me too. Thought, at that point, maybe he hadn't been sure as to why. All he had known was it was time that I know the whole truth.

We had both lost someone close to us. Rena for him, and Tamlin for myself, but we both knew that we were happier with each other than we ever had been. It was just how life had turned out.

"Ah, yes. You cared for her, didn't you? You'll have to forgive me then, for doing it once more!" Anton snarled and quiet suddenly his hand – the one I hadn't been watching – struck out, tossing a glass vile at us. Zevran and I broke apart instantly, the vile exploding once it hit the ground, and spewing purple smoke everywhere. I held my breath, knowing it was likely a poison; I won't fall to that again. Sadly, it also works as a cover, the room is quickly being cloaked in the stuff, and I can't see either Anton, or Zevran.

I panicked for a moment, taking an unsure step forward, but not willing to walk into the purple cloud. I would be lost in there, and I had no way of knowing which way I should go.

I took a deep breath – making sure to avoid the smoke as best I could – and tried to think clearly as I circled around it. The room isn't that big, so they have to be around here somewhere. Only half the room is cloaked, the portion behind me only has wisps of the color in the air, so that narrowed the space even more. Zevran was smart, he won't stay in the smoke either. It's likely he is on the other side of the cloud, doing much the same thing as myself. Calling to him was out of the question though, as it would give me away, showing too much weakness to the target.

A weakness he had already exploited enough.

Then I heard it, and any resolve from moments before, broke, shattering like rotten wood; Zevran's scream.

It wasn't a full blown one, for he was good at hiding pain, the Crows had made sure of that. Anton must have surprised him. He yelped, and I ran.

Like an arrow from a bow I shot through the purple smoke, ignoring the lancing pain that seared my eyes instantly, stung my open wound on my arm. I ignored it all, my only thought being Zevran and how stupid we had been to do this alone.

I broke though the other side of the mist in moments, finally letting my breath out and gasping slightly. My burning eyes flickered about before I found him against the wall, a large knife in his shoulder, pinning him there. Blood was slowly dripping off the blade's handle and coloring his formal attire, a sight that sickens me.

I moved to him quickly, surprising him as I touched his cheek. His eyes widen and he shook his head, panicked.

"No, Rodwen, this is what he wants! Behind you!"

I spun on my feet, a long blade meeting and sideswipe me, cutting into my right cheek and slicing my ear. Behind me, Zevran cursed. In front of me, Anton looked surprised. My reflexes once again startling my enemy.

I knew it was time to finish this.

I crouched seconds later as he tried to lop off my head ,and kicked his legs hard. He stumbled, losing his footing, but not falling completely. Still, it gave me enough time to flip onto my hands, kicking my feet up to flip over and hitting the handle of the knife pinning Zevran as I went. I saw him wince as I wheeled over, landing on my feet, but I knew I had dislodged the blade from the wall.

Feet on the ground again, I vaulted towards Anton who had righted himself, but barely had time to meet my first blade with his own. I twirled, skirting behind him and knocking him to his knees with a kick to the backs of them. He grunted, and I moved in, my free blade touching his neck as I kept tension on the one fighting his sword.

"You knife eared bitch!" He snarled and I narrowed my eyes, pressing the blade closing to his neck. I could kill him easily now. Part of me wanted to, but this isn't for me. Not this time.

I saw Anton glance to the place he had pinned Zevran, only to find is empty now. Said elf was sauntering over, the very knife he had been trapped within his hand as he played with it.

"Good try, my friend. A lesser women would have fallen, I'm sure. Rodwen is not that though." He mused standing in front of us. He looked upon his old master for a long moment before his eyes narrowed, his face hardening. "I don't like you calling her that though."

"What's the matter Zev? Can't take a little competition." Anton replied back, his voice sounding a bit tired now. I wondered, quietly, if he had given up. The fight had been a little too easy; maybe being the Game Master had left him to rust upon his pedestal. Maybe he had realized he couldn't win when he saw us take down his men.

"Not at all, but that would require someone who hasn't already lost Anton." Zevran muttered, flipping the knifepoint out. "No hard feeling I hope though. It is, after all, just how lives like ours go, no?"

Anton frowned at his old student for a moment, before he sighed again. I saw the ghost of a smirk appear on his lips, something that could have been seen as agreement. He didn't say anything though, and I flinched slightly when Zevran suddenly moved and the blade he had been holding sank deep into Anton's chest. I felt the man spasm in my hold, his sword arm dropping limply beside him. I let it go, the blade clattering to the ground. Anton shuttered, his eyes rolling back as blood foamed on his lips. Zevran wasn't smirking like I thought he would be, his face was, for once, stone like. With a quick twist of the knife the Game Master went still, and Zevran pulled the blade free. I let go of the man, watching him fall like a broken toy onto the ground next to his blade.

His eyes were still open, and, while I had detested the man, I still bent over and closed them. In the end he had faced death head on, and, for that, I respected him in as much as I was sure Zevran probably did.

I let out a long sigh, stood, and stored my knives once more. The night seemed so long, yet it must have only been a few hours. Either way, all I want to do now is sleep. My next step, though, was to find the skirt of my dress, but I never got the chance. I felt a warm hand on my face, whipping at the blood from my cut. I found Zevran attached to the limb, his eyes clear and his face holding a rueful smile.

I reached up and touching his hand with mine, smiling slightly. It was over.

"So, what now?"

Zevran laughed, tilting his head and moving his hand to my chin, pulling it up. He was kissing me in moments and I let him enjoy his victory, my hands touching his shoulders, careful of his new wound that would need to be looked at very soon.

After a few minutes we separated. Zevran went to retrieve his weapons and I went over to where my skirt had been. I'm surprised to find it farther away then I had thought. As I heard Zev talking to the very petrified prince – well okay. He was talking, the prince was just staring and nodding . I picked up the smooth fabric. There was a tear in it – probably from frustrated Crows – but no blood stained it. It could be mended.

Mended and rebuilt and changed for the better, just like the Crows.

…

I woke up to the sound of a bell tolling. Laying there, under the covers I listened as it rang out four times, giving me something to work with. I wasn't sure how I had fallen sleep; the last thing I remembered was Zevran leaning over me, a needle in his hand. I remembered the prickles of pain that had followed, and his soft, soothing humming.

I had fallen asleep during my last tattoo session?

I sighed, shaking my head slightly and sitting up, watching as the covers were dragged away and pooled silently around my waist. Reaching up I touched my left shoulder and collarbone area where the rage demon had left its mark. The skin was tender, a sunburn on top of a bruise.

Lazily, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, wandering across the vast room of the master chambers. Only a week after the death of Anton, and Zevran and I had left the tattoo parlor, moving into our new home. The Crow's new home. We had more or less demolished the old guild zone along with the storehouse where they had kept new recruits.

It now resided inside of a building that might have at one point been a church, but now looked nothing like one except for the smaller, one story building that stood connected with a small tower. At the top was a stain glass window, behind it was the bell that had woken me. Most of that was now used for training and storage, while the main part of the building was for living. It was tall, with pale stone and large windows. There were three floors, two of which housed quarters for guest and member, and another that held a dining hall and bath. The top floor was off limits to any but its leaders, as Zevran had basically claimed it as ours.

Walking across the tile floor, I stopped in front of the full-length mirror Zevran had brought days before. I was wearing my new leather fighting gear, or at least the bottoms of it. My torso was bear, my hair a bit messy, but still in a braid. My eyes fell to the spot I had been touching and marveled at what I saw.

It blended in perfectly with the scorched black marks from the demon, turning them into vines that had grown much larger and expanded over much more of my skin. The black and green vines swirled and twisted on my shoulder and chest, leaves growing from within just the right spots. Near the center and over the start of my left breast, white and yellow flowers bloomed, so real I could have touched them. Daisies. My favorite flower, and something that was different from before.

I smiled, unable to stop the happy grin at Zevran's amazing work. He knew me better then myself some times. Knowing I was alone in the room, I found one of my new leather torso pieces and put it on, carefully putting the clasps together. It was lighter then I was use to. Antiva had found a way to make it more breathable, which I was happy about seeing as the weather was so much warmer. Pulling on my gloves and boots, I redid my braid and then set out, grapping my daggers that sat by the door.

Down the stairs, one left turn, and I was on the second floor. There were a few members about, a pair of men playing cards in the corner near a window. Most of then spent time in the bottom of the building that had been set up like a meeting room.

"Lady Rodwen?"

Glancing to my side I saw a younger girl stop and bowed at the waist, a hand crossed over her chest, fist to her heart. Her hair was black, and under it were pointed ears. Her name was Lena, and she was fourteen years old. Much like Zevran she had been bought from slavery from the Crows, but had still been going through 'training' when it changed hands. I had been surprised when she, like many others, had taken to the new leadership quickly, happy about the changes.

Upon our new role, Zevran and I had made two things very clear to the remaining Crows. One was that the idea of buying slaves and torturing then was over. People could learn everything they needed to in a much better manner. It had also been said that the Crows were now a test-required guild. No one got in without first fight Zevran or myself, though that did not mean they had to win.

The second thing was this: Any old members who did not approve of our new leadership were now evicted. We had ended up having to fight a half-dozen or so assassin anyway, but the rest had left after seeing the slaughter. Fear was not the only way to stay the hand of any traitors, but it did help. The people that lived here were trusted and had proved they could be, Zevran had made it very clear that any attempts on our lives would mean death. Not right away if we needed information, but it would come.

There were still doubts in my mind about the safety of all this, but I trusted Zevran not to get us killed, and I had begun to trust others as well.

"What is it Lena?" I asked and the girl smiled.

"If you're looking for Master Zevran he is out on the balcony. He seemed lost in thought and I was worried. I was waiting for you to show up so I could tell you…" She flushed and looked at her feet. I smiled, biting back a laugh and patted her shoulder. She was hardly assassin material, but she had nowhere else to go.

"Thank you."

Lena nodded her head and wondered off to join the two men playing cars. I watched them for a moment as she peered over one of their shoulders and gave a hand sign to the opponent, which was caught quickly. Laugher followed the halfhearted accusation and I shook my head, turning and heading to where Lena had directed me.

Looking at them all, I could hardly see them as my enemy or as deadly killers. They were just people, as we all were.

Stepping out into the light and the outside air, I let the wind pay with my braid as I walked up to him. He was leaning on the stone railing, his eyes millions of miles away.

"If you stare to hard, your eyes might dry out." I said teasingly as I neared him. He twitched, eyes shifted and blinking, as he turned to look at me. He smiled and I closed the distant, hugging him and pressing my face into his neck. He chuckled, running a hand over my head.

"You are up I see."

I made a face, pulling back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean too. I guess I just…" I trailed off, once again not sure how to tell him what had happened.

"Ah, it is fine, Bella." He ducked his head slightly, kissing my forehead. "Does it please you?"

"It is beautiful." I muttered, knowing I had basically repeated him. I was learning Antivan slowly, very slowly. I had time, though, to learn it. "Thank you."

"For you? Anything."

I smiled, resting my cheek on his chest plait. Part of me never wanted to move again, but our days were busy now. Much like they had been during The Blight. They would only get busier, I was sure. There were a lot of Crow factions out there that needed to be taken down, or brought in. It would be a while before days became easy, but I had known that going into it.

It was time I told him everything, before there was no real time to do so.

After a time I pulled back and Zevran looked at me in question. I shook my head slightly. I nearly didn't get my next words out. "There is something I have been wanting to talk to you about. Something we have both avoided." I muttered.

I could tell by the way his face fell, that he knew of what I spoke, for he had quieted me on the subject the first day I had been in the city. "I suppose you are right." He seemed saddened, but did not move to make me stop. I watched as he leaned back , putting his elbows on the railing and eyed me carefully. I took in a deep breath.

"I know you do not wish to speak of it." I began, leaning on the railing next to him. The view of the city was amazing, the warm sun making the water sparkle. "I don't wish to either, but you need to know before we go any farther."

"You speak of the taint, yes?" His voice was tense, strained, and I stole a glance at him to see his face was much the same. I'm surprised that he knew.

"How did you…"

"It was a while back." He admitted quietly. "Our dear Wynne came to me, and told me of the warden's path. She told me one day, that if I stayed with you, I would have to watch you fall to the Calling, where you would descend into the Deep Roads, and fight till you died."

My chest felt heavy at his words, for they mirrored what Alistair had told me. It reminded me that he had said Duncan had been feeling the pull of the Calling. Being a Gray Warden after all, while a noble cause, was a doomed path.

It didn't surprise me that Wynn had gone to Zevran with such news. In the beginning she had been against our blooming relationship, worried that it might alter my course in the Blight. It had irritated me to no end. I had ignored her, and in the end she had relented, apologizing for ever thinking I was so easily swayed.

It made me sad though, to know Zevran must have carried her words throughout our entire relationship.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked, peering at him. He glanced at me, before his eyes moved away, having trouble meeting my mine.

"I didn't think it mattered. We were in a war. Either one of us could have died at any moment. It has never been my style to think too far into the future, Rodwen. You know this. "

I looked upon him for a few moments, staring at his saddened face. What could he be thinking now I wondered; did he believe since we had won the Blight, that my course in life was unchanged?

How little he truly knew.

I reached out, moving his gloved hand with my own. He looked at me, his golden eyes searching, and I smiled. "I'm not leaving you Zev. I already told you… I'm done with the Wardens. I want nothing more to do with them. The Calling can shove it."

His lips twitched and he chuckled slightly, shaking his head. "Ah, it is not often you speak in such a way." He flipped his hand over so his palm touched mine, and curled his fingers against my hand. "If that was not what you wished to tell me then, what was it?"

I looked down at the city, hating myself for having to ruin his mood once again. But, he needed to know. I took in a deep breath, wondering where to start. The beginning I realized. That was the best way.

"Do you remember that one night, when that tainted elf stumbled upon our camp? You and the others came just before he gave in, turning into a Shieker." My own words burned my throat at such a memory. My eyes burned even more though.

"Ah, yes." He replied slowly, wondering why I was asking such a thing, I was sure. I shifted my weight, my hand curling around his now, to seek strength in his touch.

"I never told you why I became a Warden. Didn't you ever wonder? Why I would leave my clan to doom myself for a cause that the Dalish were not a part of?" In the beginning, my dissent of the shemlens had been harsh. Only a few escaped my hateful stare – Alistair and Duncan, Wynn and Leliana. Morgan came later, as did the Earl and the rest. – I hadn't been use to their stares, or the way they looked down upon elves. I hadn't like the cities, or anything in them at first. Over time, though, I came to see things differently. For people are all different, no matter their race.

"Ah. I did ask Alistair once. I was curious, you see, but I didn't want to trouble you." He admitted and I looked at him surprised. Alistair and Zevran had been at odds with each other a lot. Their uneasy alliance never completely settling. "He hadn't really know, but he had ventured that maybe something had happened with your clan. That maybe you had been banished from it for some reason. Of course, when we went to stay with them later on after the Blight, that idea became false."

I tensed at his words. In a way, I had been kicked out, not banished, but forced to leave if only so that I could live. My Keeper had not wanted me to die, but I had always been welcome to return when I had gotten better.

"That is not the way of the Dalish. Banishment doesn't happen unless you have committed the sin of murder, and that is if you are shown mercy. More often than not when one leaves the clan, it is of their own will, like your mother did."

Zevran nodded his head, a brief sadness crossing his face as he thought about the mother he had never known. "Was that your reason then? Did you leave because you wanted to be a Gray Warden in the beginning?" He watched as I shook my head and his brow furrowed. "Then why?"

"I wish I knew." I muttered more to myself then to him, for I had often wondered why I had been given such a fate. Confusion still riddling his face, I took in a deep breath and began my story.

I told him of my role in the clan first. Told him of the hunting partner and my dear friend Tamlen, of how close we had been. I continued on, remember that day in the forest with the humans, and how my friend had been so curious.

"I had been as much as well, but, of the two of us, I was worried about what wondering around ruins might do. Tamlen convinced me that we would be fine, so we ventured in."

"I suppose you were right to be worried then, yes?"

I looked him in the eyes and nodded sadly. Zevran's hand squeezed mine, and I continued. I described to him what we found. Of the ruins and the signs of both human and elven workmanship. Then I told him about the walking corpses and how I had pleaded with Tamlen to go back, but my friend had kept going. I had followed, not willing to leave him down there alone.

"The last room we ventured into was large and a corrupted bear greeted us. Though, back then, I had no idea what was wrong with it, just that it was deformed. We had dispatched it quickly, and then all that was left in the room was us… and a mirror."

"A mirror?" Zevran questioned, his voice confused. He was rightly so, for who could think of a mirror as something evil. Tamlen and I hadn't, not a first. Nodding my head again I closed my eyes, the memories burning them even hotter.

"It was pretty, and stood tall and large in the middle of the room. Tamlen walked straight up to it, and I followed, though a bit perplexed. I became nervous when I saw it didn't show our reflection. That's when everything went wrong. Tamlen started saying he could see something, and I could see the mirror was glowing, and it scared me. I called to him, shouted at him not to touch it, that we should get back to the clan. He didn't listen and the moment he touched the mirror, light spilled out blinding me. I remember hearing Tamlen screaming, and the agony that ripped through my body."

"You were in pain?" Zevran stated, and I felt the stinging in my eyes burn to deep then and water began to fill them. "I don't… what happened?"

He was confused, just as I had been. "I woke up several days later, back in the camp of my clan. My sheets were twisted and soaked with sweat, and I couldn't remember ever feeling so sick. Everything burned and ached. It felt like my blood was on fire, and at the same time that it was being turned to ice." I shuttered at the memory. Even the poison from the Crows hadn't been that bad. "I found out upon leaving my tent that a Gray Warden named Duncan had found me and brought me back. My Keeper had barely brought me back from the brink, but she couldn't cure me. I also found out that Tamlen was nowhere to be found."

I opened my eyes briefly, regretting it instantly as tears escaped and ran down my cheeks. Zevran's free hand came up, and he lifted my chin to look at him, and then used his thumb to wipe away my falling tears.

"You don't have to continue Rodwen…"

I shook my head; no this needed to be told. He needed to know. Deserved to know. "I was dying Zev." I choked out. "The mirror was an Eluvian, I found out later. It's a magical item, something from the Tevinte Magisters. It had been tainted somehow, I don't know really. But when Tamlen touched it, we were both infected with the Corruption. " I heard Zevran take in a deep breath, surprised but I continued on. "That elf, Zevran, the one that turned into a Shieker, was Tamlen. I don't know how he survived for so long. Maybe it was luck or willpower, but he had been looking for me. He wanted me to kill him." That was what I had ended up being forced to do, when my friend had turned. "The only reason I didn't turn out like him was because Duncan recruited me. He said that by becoming a Gray Warden, my body could fight back the corruption. But…"

His hand left mine and suddenly, arms were around me, encasing me, pulling me into his chest. "Shhh…" Zevran tried to calm me, as tears fell uncontrolled now.

"It's not a cure. I know it's not, but the corruption has been slowed to the point where people could see it as me falling to the fate of all Wardens. But… I don't want to go back into the Deep Roads, I don't want to turn into a monster like Tamlen." It was one or the other, and I knew that. It would be years, a decade or two, but in time I would fall to the same fate as my hunting partner. Either that, or I could throw myself to the never-ending armies of the Darkspawn, and die like every other Warden, like Alistair would, in time.

It wasn't fair, and I hated that I had to tell him this, but he needed to know. He needed to so that he could either accept it, or tell me to leave. I would not begrudged him if it was the later, for who would want to watch the person they love turn into some creature?

I closed my eyes shut, willing the tears to stop as he pet my hair, holding me as close as he could. We were silent for a long time as he processed everything. After a while, my tears did stop and I opened my eyes, pressing my cheek into his shoulder more. His hand never stopped, not till I did that, and then he cocked his head and kissed the top of mine.

"Didn't I tell you time is irrelevant to people such as us?" He said calmly, and when I pulled way slightly, I found he was smirking just enough for me to know my words had saddened him. It wasn’t really his smirk, it was too strained, but he was trying. He was not one to give up. "You're not leaving me, yes? So I shall do the same." He promised bring his hand up to touch my face.

I sighed. "It's not that easy… if… when it happens." I struggle with the words, for I didn't wish to speak them. I sighed "If I do not find a way to stop it..."

Zevran hummed, pulling me back and holding me by the shoulders to look at me. "If that were to happen Rodwen, I would not stand idly by and watch you suffer." He said quietly, great sadness touching his eyes at his own words.

I swallowed, catching his meaning and feeling my chest tighten at it. After a few moments I snorted at the irony. "You would be finishing your last assignment after all then, wouldn't you?"

Zevran chuckled, the sadness in his eyes lessening, but still there. "Yes, I suppose I would be." He pondered that for a moment, before speaking again. "But that is so far off, and as I have said people like us, well, who knows where our lives will take us." He lifted a hand stroking the side of my face. " We will look for a cure while we can, it is that simple. It is not wise to linger on such thoughts. Let us store it away and enjoy our time together. That is all I have ever wanted Rodwen, and nothing will change that. Every moment I have with you, is a gift."

I could almost feel tears in my eyes again, but I willed them back, overjoyed by his acceptance. It was kind of a bittersweet thing, what he said, but for some reason it made a great deal of sense. As though there were no better option.

Everything suddenly seemed right.

I smiled, turning my head and kissing his hand. "I think, perhaps, that is the wisest thing you have ever said."

"You wound me Rodwen!" Zevran exclaimed, smiling, before he thought about it for a moment. "Though you are probably right…"

I snorted again, laughing, as his hand moved to the back of my head and he brought me closer and kissed me. It was a long and loving kiss, and I hated to end it as I pulled back slightly. "I think I could get use to that though." I stated, kissing him lightly again. "Living every second to the fullest, not thinking of things so far ahead of us. At least, not for a long time. We have a lot to do after all."

"Ah… Mio bella ombra." He sighed, his hand still in my hair, the braid coming undone with quick fingers. "Now you are speaking like the Queen of the Assassins."

Quick as a whip, one of his hands moved down, catching the underside of my knees and swinging me up into his arms before I could even squeak in surprise. Instead I just giggled, bring my face up to his neck and kissing it. A sigh escape his lips, one of contentment, one that gave me a tingling warmth in my chest.

As he brought me back to our new bed and laid next to me I realized that we truly were quiet lucky. After all, we had survived a Blight, killed those who threatened us, and taken what we wanted. Through all of that we still had each other.

That, in itself, made everything else worth it.

_FIN_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, I was happy to learn after playing DA:I that i was right in thinking that the Warden might go looking for a way to stop the Calling, and in the case of the Dalish one, the corruption.   
> Still, its a bit of a bitter sweet ending, yet I can't really think of any other way to go about it. I'll be posting some DA:I stuff soon, so be on the look out!


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